Page 32 of Rivers of Ink
“It wasn’t my place. They had to take responsibility for what they’d done.”
“If I’d have known, maybe I could have stopped it.”
Drew laughed. “I don’t think there’s anything you could have done. Xander fell pretty hard, and Isobel can be quite persuasive.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Cal. I should have been straight with you.” He reached out and placed a hand on Callan’s arm. “I don’t want to lose another son.”
The shaky emotion in Drew’s voice hit Callan directly in the heart. Despite everything that had happened with Xander and Isobel, his father had still suffered the same way he had, maybe more so. Now it was just the two of them, and they had to stick together, whatever had gone on in the past.
“You’re not going to, Dad,” said Callan, and he thought he saw Drew choke back a tear. “You want to get a beer later? I have some things to sort out at the shop, but I can meet you at the Trackside Social around seven? We can talk about where to scatter Xander’s ashes. He always wanted to be a motorcyclist, so maybe we should take him to Donington Park.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” said Drew. “Both the beer and your idea. I’ll see you tonight.”
They stood and embraced in a slightly awkward hug.
Callan walked back to The Unbound Soul feeling a lot lighter than he had done in a while. He and Drew needed to stick together now.
“Didn’t realise you were coming back, Callan,” said Miles, as Callan entered the shop. “Do you want me to lock up?”
“No, it’s okay. I’m going to hang out here for a while. Got a couple of things to look at. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Sure, boss, have a good night.”
When he was alone, he locked the door and turned off most of the lights. He settled down on the sofa by the window, laptop open in front of him. He opened Alicia’s marketing strategy document and began to reread it. As he went through, he made notes on a pad beside him, highlighting things he wanted to action quickly. The hours slipped past, and Callan hadn’t noticed the darkness drawing in. Once he’d finished the business side of things, he got out his sketchbook and started working on some new designs. As usual, he was so absorbed in creating that he didn’t hear the crack as the capacitor in the upstairs fridge ignited, nor did he feel the heat of the flames.
It was the smoke that did the most damage.
18
When a mobile number she didn’t recognise flashed up on her phone, Alicia almost didn’t answer it. She was preparing to head up to London for her interview and didn’t want to be distracted by cold callers. For some reason, she decided to take the call.
“Is that Alicia?” The voice was male.
“Yes, who is this?”
“I’m Drew Rivers, Callan’s father.”
Alicia’s heart almost stopped. What was he doing calling her? “Um, hello?” She heard heavy breathing on the other end of the line before Drew spoke again.
“There’s been an accident at The Unbound Soul. I thought you should know.”
Her chest tightened. “What happened?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Fire broke out in the upstairs kitchen. There’s been quite a bit of smoke damage, although the emergency services did manage to get there in time.”
She had heard sirens during the night, nothing unusual in that part of town though. “Callan, was he…?”
“He was downstairs when the fire started.”
Her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the bed, her pulse pounding, fearing the worst. “Is he…?”
“Callan’s in hospital. He inhaled a lot of smoke and they think he’s going to be fine. He’s been asking for you.”
“He wants to see me?”
“You’re the one he’s been asking for, sweetheart,” said Drew. “He’s in St Andrews. That’s where I am.”
“I can be there in about twenty minutes. I’ll call you when I arrive.”
As Alicia disconnected the call, she took a few breaths to compose herself. She had been on the verge of heading off, in the hope of pastures new, and her past was calling to her. Was she doing the right thing by rushing to see him? Was she jeopardising her future by blowing off the interview? She ran a hand through her hair, wishing Nell were there. Nell would know what to do for the best.
